I Can Smell Your Scent For Miles
by SouthParkFanfiction112
Summary: When Stan is paired up with Pete for a school assignment, he reluctantly has to go to Pete's home and gets caught doing something not so innocent. (StanxPete one-shot) Rated T for mild language.


Stan tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he approached the door. He didn't know why but, something about Pete made him nervous. They had been paired up on an assignment together and Pete had told him to pick up his half of the notes from his house today. For whatever reason, Stan found the idea of Pete's house intimidating, but he needed the notes. He was just about to knock as he reached the front door when it suddenly opened. Stan jumped back a step, startled, as Pete came into view.

"Oh, hey." Pete greeted upon seeing Stan. "I was just coming out for a quick smoke. Wasn't expecting you now."

"Um, I can wait." Stan replied gawkily.

Pete considered this for a moment before lightly shaking his head. "I have the notes upstairs in my room. You can wait there while I finish up." He stepped aside and ushered Stan through the still open door. Stan did so reluctantly. "Up stairs. First door on your left. I won't be long." Pete called out after him before shutting the front door; leaving Stan alone to navigate through the eerie house.

Once upstairs, Stan looked around the oddly familiar room awkwardly. He felt so out of place, like when you see someone you use to know and barely recognize them anymore. Or when you spot a teacher outside of class at the mall or gym.

It was strange because Stan felt like he knew this room, though he'd only been here a couple of times as a child, and now it was so different, he almost didn't recognize it. He shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Stan looked back at the door and wondered how much longer Pete would be downstairs.

With a quick purse of his lips, Stan walked over to the shelves and inspected the many trinkets and oddities Pete seemed to collect. He noticed a distinct lack of photos and frames. Stan frowned to himself slightly disappointed. It would have been nice to see some photos of when Pete was younger.

He moved over to the cluttered desk, which upon closer inspection was covered with anything but school work. There were books with dark bindings and calligraphic lettering. Papers of all sorts were scattered about. They ranged from what appeared to be random scribblings to articles about who knows what to the band sleeves from the inside of CD cases. Also, more trinkets that reminded Stan of a raven somewhere in the back of his mind. He was sure spending a few hours in this room would teach him more about Pete than he'd ever be inclined to share himself. His attention was then drawn to the chair which had some fabric hanging off the back.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Stan pick it up, holding it spread open in front of him to determine what it was. It was a t-shirt. A simple black long sleeve shirt. It had a white skeleton design that was supposed to match anatomically to the body of the wearer. Stan looked it over for a moment trying to remember if he'd ever seen Pete wearing it. Before he even realized what he was doing, Stan lifted the fabric to his nose and inhaled deeply. The scent, like the room, was familiar. And from somewhere deep in his memory, Stan remembered a shirt Pete had given him in elementary. The memory was foggy but the shirt had smelled like this only much less potent. Stan looked back down at the shirt trying to ignore the guilty feeling of being a creep. He lifted it once more and closing his eyes he pressed it to his nose inhaling a second time. It was a pleasant scent. A mix faintly of smoke but mostly an earthy musk that was Pete's natural scent.

"What are you doing?" A sudden voice burst through Stan's blissful daze causing his eyes to snap open. His body had gone rigid from the sudden shock and he was trying to bite back the sudden panic that coursed through him.

Stan gave a nervous, very forced laugh as he set the shirt back down and turned around in the direction of the voice. "Okay I know this sounds weird," he tried his best to seem lighthearted. "But your shirt just smelled really fresh and I was trying to figure out what kind of fabric softener it was. Like, my mom just started using a new one and it leaves my shirts all scratchy. I was just wondering what kind your mom uses." He hoped his voice was even and convincing. It was difficult to tell with how his uneasy heart was hammering away in his ears.

Pete scrunched his face in thought for a split second. "Oh. I don't know. Gain maybe? Or some fruity shit like that." He remarked, his tone it's usual bored timbre, as he strolled casually over to his desk.

"You know, it's not really important." Stan stammered. "Can I just get the notes?" He was eager to change the subject, relieved Pete had bought his excuse without further question.

"Yeah." Pete stated simply as he pulled a neat stack of papers from one of the desk drawers. It was a surprising contrast to the scatter across the desktop.

He handed them over and Stan flipped through them in a quick inspection. "Impressive." He admitted, genuinely impressed by the quality of the notes.

Pete gave a casual shrug. "Just because I don't take notes, doesn't mean I don't know how. And I didn't want you getting your panties in a bunch if I flaked on you." He jabbed.

Stan shoved the notes into his backpack. "Right." If he wasn't so flustered he could have come up with a better retort. He cleared his throat. "I'll have the final paper put together by Monday."

"Whatever." Pete sighed. He seemed completely uninterested in whether or not the paper got done, though Stan suspected that wasn't the case.

Pete watched as Stan exited the room. He didn't bother to show him out. When he heard Stan close the front door behind him, he turned back to his desk intending to return to the book he'd originally put down. He paused as his attention was caught by the shirt Stan had held. Pete couldn't remember the last time he'd given it to his mom to wash or the last time he'd worn it, though he doubted any soap she used could smell that good. He picked it up and sniffed it. Pete was confused to discover it didn't smell like anything.

That's weird.


End file.
